Rated R for dark subjects and slight sexuality…I am revising this because I recently looked over it and saw all the typos and other crap and because I thought perhaps if I updated it more people would read it (PLEASEE!!!!)

I don't own anything.. please R/R…yeah I think that just about covers it.

I'm Different Than You Are

It hurt me to see you with him, 'Mione. Oh, God, you'll never know how much it hurt.

Each time you laughed at one of his jokes it was like being hit with the killing curse. I still remember when I caught you snogging by the dungeons. I remember every memory with you in it, all the others seem to fade away. His hand was up your shirt and you didn't do a thing to stop him. I saw him smirking through your lips before I disappeared into the darkness and I could feel his lips for a second, for a second I was you and I could feel him. It felt like the kiss of death.

Perhaps that's why I reveled in the joy when you confided in me that you liked those jokes as much as I. You said it in a whisper although you could have screamed aloud and no one would hear. You seemed ashamed by it, ashamed that you did not believe the Wonder Boy as perfect as the world did. It was a day over the summer, in my room at the Weasley house. We were both on the floor, sitting with mugs of tea, and you were talking about him.

"Oh, but he's such a good kisser, Ginny!" I had to turn away so that you couldn't see my tears. That's when I realized:

I'm different than you, 'Mione.

I tried to mask who I was, but I'm such a terrible actor. You know that, you knew it ever since you caught me in the dorm room with the curtain draped around my bed. When you pulled the cloth away, you saw me staring at a picture. It was of you, 'Mione, but I didn't let you see that. When you asked me what I was doing, I said thinking, as I pushed your picture under the pillow. You invited me to come study with you and didn't question me, but I could see it in your eyes. I'm always so good at reading you.

One night during summer you asked me if I wanted to play truth or dare. I didn't, knowing one way or the other, the answer to ever question I asked would turn out to be 'Harry.' Truth or dare seems so pointless when one of us has a boyfriend. But I also knew if I said no, you'd know something was wrong. You went first because I said I couldn't think of anything to ask you yet (You always pick truth).

"Truth or dare, Gin?"

"Truth, you know we never pick dare, 'Mione."

You laughed and for the briefest moment I caught your eyes. "Who do you like?" you asked, and my breath caught in my throat. It was quite a legitimate question, since you hadn't asked me since Harry asked you to the Yule Ball, but that wasn't the point. The point was I didn't know if I had quite a legitimate answer.

"Oliver," I said quickly, or perhaps too slowly, I don't remember the time that had elapsed between the question and the answer. When I looked at you, I knew it was a mistake. I can never hide from you eyes 'Mione, especially if you're suspicious.

Those beautiful, wide eyes narrowed ever so slightly, causing your long lashes to cast dancing shadows about your face.

"I know you're lying. I can always tell."

I had sighed the second before I realized that it was a mistake. That maybe you were just guessing. Maybe you didn't know . . .

"You can tell me, Gin. You know I'll understand." We were both sitting cross-legged and you put your hand over mine and looked at me. You made me feel like such a little girl then, when you play the role of mother. "Even if it's Harry."

"It's not Harry," I told you, looking down, and I could hear you exhale quietly with relief. " 'Mione . . ." I started, not knowing what to say or how to form my words.

"Who is it? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pressure you, but you've never been so closed about boys before." I winced at the word.

"I don't like boys, 'Mione."

"Oh," was all you said for so long and I was beginning to think you weren't there but for the warmth covering my hand. And then you drew your hand off of mine. I felt tears prick my eyes, and I angrily wiped them away. Of course, how could I think you would understand? I wasn't like you. I wasn't normal.

"I'm sorry I'm a freak," I told you in a huff and turned away. I had wanted to make my voice strong, I wanted to show you I didn't need you. But my voice quivered and more tears came.

"Ginny . . ." you said, and I was surprised to hear there wasn't hate in your voice. "I didn't mean it like that. I just was shocked, is all." I turned back and looked at you suspiciously. You were serious, I found, and you weren't smirking at me at all. "I promise," you whispered, and I let a shadow of a smile grace my lips.

Then, instantly, you were the same old Hermione again, all giggles and smiles and rocking back on your heels. I so admired you for that, for your ability to make yourself change emotions so smoothly. "So, who is it you like then, Gin Gin?" you giggled, and I froze again.

"Cho," I said with a forced smile. "She's just so pretty."

"Oh, I suppose I know why. Half the school is after her," you commented dryly. "I don't blame them. What I wouldn't give to have a figure like hers, you know?"

"Yeah," I grinned, and let out a sigh of air, knowing for once I had lied successfully.

I was happy for a while, with someone to share my burden. And you didn't tell anyone, not even Harry. Not only that, but you accepted it, promised me it was okay, that I was okay. You didn't make me feel like such a freak anymore.

When my 15th birthday rolled around, you were the only one who didn't get me anything. I remember sitting through dinner, looking down at the food on my plate, my favorite stew of noodles and beef and warm broth. The one time I looked up, past my presents of chocolate frogs and knitted sweaters, and at you. I wanted to glare at you, but you looked up and winked and at that moment I knew you hadn't forgotten after all.

That night when we lay down for bed, I slipped my hand under my pillow like I always do. What I felt wasn't the carpeted floor, but the smooth cover of a book. I drew it out and smiled at you when I saw the title.

Lesbian Witches Through the Ages. How perfect it was. On the cover was a woman flying a broomstick, the green earth passing beneath her and her robes rippling in the wind. I hugged you and squealed and thanked you for not giving it to me downstairs.

"I knew it!" I remember squealing, "I knew you didn't forget!" You smiled and hugged me tight and I reveled in your friendly touch. But I didn't want it to be friendly, 'Mione. Thank God you didn't know that.

When we got back to Hogwarts you grew distant from me again, spending all your time with Harry and Ron. But especially Harry. I sunk into depression and slunk along the halls like a hollow-eyed ghost. I was pale and my eyes dark and there was a never a night I didn't cry myself to sleep. I was loosing weight fast and I didn't smile anymore. People started staying away from me and I'd wondered if you'd told.

I stayed away from you on purpose, 'Mione, I'm sorry, but I didn't want you to notice how fast I was sinking down. It was easy: we weren't in the same classes or dorm room, and I always slipped past when I saw you in the Common Room laughing with Harry or rolling your eyes at Ron before working out a math problem for him.

You didn't need me, and I knew that. How could I help it if I didn't want it to be true?

I grew suicidal, and one day when we were having steak for dinner, I slipped the unused knife into my robes. When the plates disappeared at the end of the meal, I was scared that Dumbledore would know. I soon realized that I didn't care anymore. That night I didn't sleep, but drew the curtains of the bed around me and watched the moonlight shining through the curtain glint off the blade. It wasn't until a month later when I worked up the courage to actually use it.

To all those around me, I probably seemed to be getting better. I was gaining back the weight I had lost and I made sure to rub away the circles from under my eyes with a special magic cream I got in Hogsmeade. But I only wanted it to seem that way, you seemed to be becoming a little suspicious of me again and I didn't want anyone interrupting my plan. You have to understand, 'Mione, I had worked out my plan so carefully.

It was winter and snowing, so when I faked a cold no one thought it strange. "You have looked a little pale lately, Ginny," you commented when you came in to see how I was doing, You promised to come in for lunch and check on me, and I smiled and thanked you. I wanted you to be the first to find out, I didn't want anyone else finding my crumpled body but you. That must sound so selfish, but you are the one human other than my family that I have ever truly loved or cared for and I cannot simply imagine how Ron would react. I had five hours until then and I knew that was more time than I needed. No one would be able to stop me.

But I hadn't factored in my nervousness. It took me an hour to get out from bed and dress myself. The first thing I did was write a note on my neatly made bed, leaning against the thick pillow. I wrote in simple print as my hand was shaking too badly to create perfect calligraphy, "Come find me alone." I then walked down the hall to the bathroom. I slipped inside and no one was there but Mertyl. I made sure to use this bathroom as no one came in because of her. But she would not be a problem. She may be a bother, but she would never leave the room to tell anyone.

I first went to the bathroom and flushed, then wondered why I was bothering to wash my hands as the cold water ran over my pale, freckly fingers.

"What are you doing here, girl?" Mertyl asked, coming up from behind me and peering into my face. "No one ever comes to visit poor Mertyl anymore!" she wailed and hid her transparent face in her transparent hands.

"Please just leave me alone, Mertyl," I sighed, but that only caused her to withdraw her hands and look sharply at me.

"Just because I'm a ghost you think you can be meeeeean!" she huffed. "Poor, poor Mertyl! Nobody cares about Mertyl!" she cried, beginning to wail.

I sighed and withdrew the knife from my cloak and looked at the beautiful blade "Well, here it goes," I whispered aloud and turned my back to the wailing ghost, wishing she would just shut up and leave me to revel in my disgust.

"What are you doing with that?" Mertyl asked, floating to be beside me. I noticed her voice was free of tears. I didn't answer her. I took my right hand and held it out in front of me. I'm left handed. Did you know that, 'Mione? You probably didn't take the time to figure that out, no one ever really looks at me that carefully. I guess it's just another thing that separates me from the world.

I watched the blue vein in my wrist and for a second I could hear the blood pumping through it, I could feel the warmth, I could see the vein pulsing with every breath I took. And then, much too slowly, I drew the knife over it. I wanted to cut it right through, but you see, 'Mione, I'd never really cut anything much before. So I knew I had to slice through again.

It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before. I could feel my soul and I could feel the warmth of it rushing to get out. A single drop of blood fell into a sink and I thought calmly, 'What a contrast the color is, deep blood against my pale skin.' I grew a bit light-headed and the cut burned. But the burn was not all bad . . . it felt like someone was rubbing the flesh, lightly, soothing the worst of the pain away. It felt like someone kissing it. But I wasn't really sure, 'Mione. I'd never been kissed.

'The kiss of death,' flashed through my mind and I saw you in the shadows again, Harry kissing you with his hand up your shirt. And, shockingly, I smiled. Harry could have you. I wasn't going to be around for much longer.

I was so caught up in my feelings I didn't even notice Mertyl was gone.

My left hand rose and I noticed calmly it was shaking. Another drop of blood fell from the cut at the same time a drop of blood fell from the knife blade. I looked down at the sink and thought absently, 'When did all that blood get there?'

I pondered the thought as I slid the knife through the blood and flesh again.

"Ginny!" When I heard the voice, I knew who it was, but I was still calm. I knew you couldn't

stop the inevitable.

"Ginny, stop now! What are you doing?"

"Leave me alone, 'Mione," I told you, but I wasn't snapping. I sounded . . . happy, and when I looked up in the mirror I saw I was smiling. "I'm happy."

"Ginny! Listen to me!" You told me, and your voice shook. You grabbed my arm right below the vein in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"Let it go. I'm happy," I said again and tried to shake your hand from its grasp. But I was too weak. I looked up at you, knowing, hoping my eyes would make you stop. Then I saw it.

You were crying.

Over me.

And you cared.

I looked down at my wrist and it seemed I realized for the first time what I'd done.

"Oh my God!" I cried, sounding more like myself than I had in month. "Oh my God, 'Mione, what are we going to do?"

You took in a shaky breath and said, "Just calm down. Mertyl, get help."

"Why are you asking me? I already had to leav-" Mertyl whined, but was cut off by:

"Just do it. Now." Something in 'Mione's voice made Mertyl flee and once again I admired you.

" 'Mione, I cut too deep!" I cried, watching the blood flow freely now. "What are we going to do?"

"We have to stop the blood flow . . ." you murmured to yourself, and then quickly drew out your wand. "I've got it!" you proclaimed.

"Non sanguis fluit!" you announced, tapping your want on my cut. Instantly I stopped bleeding and you professionally turned on the faucet, holding a piece of your robe under the water flow. You severed the piece of the cloth from the rest of your robe and wrung it out, before lightly dabbing my cut. I grimaced, but I didn't say anything.

I didn't notice I was crying until a tear dripped into my mouth. You cared. You cared enough for you, the always neat, orderly Hermione, to rip half your sleeve off. That may sound silly to you now, 'Mione, but I wasn't in a very good place then as you might recall. The next thing I remember is waking up in a bed in the hospital wing with a bandage around my wrist and you peering into my eyes.

"Oh, I was so worried!" you cried before flinging your arms around me. I felt tears coat my hair and realized I was sobbing too. You hadn't told anyone what really had happened and I was so happy for that. Later you told me that Ron and Harry had been informed that my knife had slipped when I was trying to eat my lunch in bed. Luckily, you were just walking in. It wasn't a very good cover-up, but they bought it.

From then on it was like summer again. You made sure to include me in everything but your snogging sessions with Harry, to the point I saw Harry and Ron giving me resentful glances at the time you were spending with me. I always grinned impishly at them and ran my right hand through my hair.

I always covered it with a glove from then on. The scar, I mean. The glove looked odd with my robes, but when Malfoy sneered at me in the halls for it, I said I was mimicking something I had seen on WWCTV (Warlock and Witches Celebrity Television). He had just raised an eyebrow and gave another snide comment, but it was weak and I knew I had won the argument.

There was one thing I didn't tell you, 'Mione. It was that I liked the scar and I thought it pretty on my pale flesh. I traced the outline of it in my skin every night before closing my eyes for bed. I always slept with the glove off.

I wonder how the line is so straight, 'Mione. I never was good at drawing, even with the aid of one of those Instant Artist pencils. You shook it off as just another advertising sham, but I just wasn't gifted. So how come my scar is so straight?

But soon things became like normal again. It started with me crying myself silently to sleep. I was sickening, to love my best friend, who was very much in love with someone else and a girl. Despite all the attention you gave me, I felt dirty. Every time you smiled or touched my

hand, I was reminded I am different.

Perhaps you noticed how I began to withdraw from your activities again. As always, you knew why and tried to nip the problem in the bud.

"Do you want me to get you a girlfriend, Gin Gin?" you asked me quietly one night in your private room. "I'm pretty sure Luna's gay too, and-"

"I'm fine," I had told you, but I hadn't met your eyes. You knew something was wrong and you didn't want to see me sink into my depression again.

"What about Emily?" you asked. "Or Cho? Maybe I could talk to her, see if-" I stopped you there.

"No. Really, it's fine. I know I'll never have the girl I want, so what's the bother?" I muttered the last part under my breath, but you heard it. I suppose I was asking for it that day.

"And who is that?" you asked me, not sure whether to be giggly 'Mione or You-Can-Confide-

In-Me Hermione.

"No one," I snapped, and then instantly wished I hadn't.

"You just had to tell me to back off," you muttered, more than a little hurt.

"Well, next time, don't ask!" I told you sharply and from the look on your face I could tell the words stung. I wanted to say I was sorry, to take you in my arms and kiss the top of your head and tell you it would never happen again. But instead I walked out without a backwards glance and slammed the door behind me.

I suppose I can't say I was surprised you were hurt but two weeks is an awfully long time not to speak to someone, especially since you were my only friend. But I wasn't really helping out either, I never went out of my way to try to speak to you. The first day you begin talking to me, I was astonished I wasn't as happy as I thought I would be.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," you had told me, closing the door behind you as you entered my room. We were the only ones in there.

"No, 'Mione, I should be the one apologizing," I sighed, looking up into you face. You sat on the bed beside me.

"I shouldn't have pushed you to tell me what you obviously-"

"No, 'Mione, I shouldn't have snapped at you without giving you so much as a warning. And I

really had no reason . . . "

"Gin, yes, you did. It really wasn't any of my business."

"Yes, it is," I had sighed. "You're my best friend." 'As much as I want you to be more.' I had added in my head. You had smiled at those few words and you seemed to think everything would be instantly okay again. But you didn't factor in my heart dying from not having you to

love.

Of course you couldn't factor it in. You didn't know.

I still cry at night. Perhaps you've noticed the circles under my eyes again. Maybe you've noticed my losing weight again. I've decided to do it differently this time, so you can't stop me. You know how I can't lie and how I'm always so bad at good byes.

I'm sure you've figured it out by now, you're just so smart. But I never really told you before, so now I'm telling you, 'Mione. I love you.

I loved you ever since the summer of 4th year.

I still love you now.

I will love you whether I end up in heaven or hell.

Tell Harry how lucky he is, and please don't try to stop me, 'Mione. I did what I thought I could to make you happy. I know you'll understand, you're always so good at that. But come to the bottom of the astronomy tower after breakfast.

I don't want anyone to find me but you.

I'll always love you,

Ginny.